The ruins were silent, save for the faint rustling of wind through the broken stone. Shadows stretched long as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the crumbling Vehl'karin outpost in blood-orange hues.
Delwyn crouched behind a half-collapsed pillar, hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword. They were coming.
Across the clearing, Vaelor stood tense, eyes fixed on the distant figures weaving through the trees—Gareth and Tavrin, leading a Black Hound force straight toward them.
Delwyn felt her pulse quicken. This was it.
These were the traitors Mira had been hunting. The ones who led the Black Hounds to the rebel outpost. The ones who had been feeding Galborn information all along.
Gareth's voice cut through the stillness as he walked ahead of the Hounds, casual, cocky. "Keep sharp, boys. Our little fugitives are close."
Tavrin, always the calmer of the two, strode at his side, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "I don't like this," he muttered. "It's too quiet."
Delwyn exchanged a glance with Mira, then with Vaelor.
It was time.
She nodded.
The trap was sprung.
A whistle cut through the air—Joren's signal—just before the first volley of arrows rained down.
Two Black Hounds fell instantly, their cries lost in the sudden chaos.
Mira and Elias dropped from their hiding spots, cutting down the first wave of soldiers before they could react.
Delwyn charged forward, locking blades with a Black Hound officer, her sword singing as it clashed against steel.
"Hold the line!" Tavrin barked, drawing his sword and immediately blocking Vaelor's first strike. Their blades met in a flurry of motion, a deadly rhythm of parries and counterattacks.
Gareth, always the coward, had already slipped behind the nearest stone, daggers in hand.
"Gareth, stop hiding and fight!" Delwyn snapped.
Gareth grinned. "Oh, but I like it better when you all do the work for me."
He flicked his wrist, a dagger sailing straight for Delwyn's chest. She barely dodged in time, feeling the blade slice past her ribs.
"Coward!" she hissed, lunging toward him.
****
Tavrin was fast—faster than Delwyn had expected. But Vaelor…
Vaelor was fighting like a man possessed.
Steel clashed, sparks flying as they twisted and struck, neither gaining the upper hand.
Tavrin smirked, pushing Vaelor back. "I never understood why Galborn wanted you alive. But now? Now I see it."
Vaelor said nothing, but his blade moved sharper, faster.
Tavrin parried again, this time grinning. "Oh, you really don't know, do you?"
Vaelor froze—just for a second.
Tavrin's smirk widened. "He told us to bring you back. He still thinks there's a use for you."
Vaelor's breathing hitched.
Tavrin leaned in, voice taunting. "He found your brother, you know."
The world tilted.
Vaelor's grip tightened around his sword. "No, you lie."
"Yes," Tavrin murmured. "Not much left of him now, of course. But he's still standing."
Something inside Vaelor snapped.
He lunged—wild, reckless, furious.
Tavrin barely dodged the strike, but Vaelor pressed forward, attacking with a speed and precision that sent Tavrin stumbling back.
Delwyn saw it all.
"Vaelor!" she called, but he wasn't listening.
****
Gareth, seeing how this was going, decided to do what he did best—run.
He turned, slipping toward the tree line just as Elias spotted him.
"Oh no, you don't!" Elias snarled, giving chase.
Gareth moved fast, but Elias was faster.
At the last moment, Gareth whipped around, throwing a handful of dust into Elias's eyes.
Elias stumbled, cursing, giving Gareth just enough time to disappear into the trees.
"Damn it!" Elias spat.
Delwyn barely registered it—she was already moving toward Vaelor, who had Tavrin pinned against the ruins, blade pressed against his throat.
"Vaelor, stop!"
He didn't.
His hands trembled, breath ragged, fury burning in his elven eyes.
Tavrin choked out a laugh, despite the blade at his throat. "You're just like him."
Vaelor froze.
That hesitation was enough.
Tavrin's hand shot up, knocking the sword away as he twisted, breaking free.
"Not today, friend," he sneered, before kicking Vaelor back and vanishing into the ruins.
Vaelor staggered, shoulders rising and falling.
Delwyn was at his side instantly. "Vaelor—"
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
Mira and Joren finished off the last of the Black Hounds, but Delwyn barely noticed.
All she could see was Vaelor.
He was still shaking.
And for the first time, Delwyn realised—Vaelor wasn't just running from Galborn.
He was running from what Galborn had done to his family.
****
The battle was over.
Elias wiped blood from his sword. "Gareth got away. But we put a dent in their forces."
Joren rolled his shoulder. "Tavrin too. Bastard slipped off into the ruins."
Talia scanned the bodies. "We should leave before more arrive."
Delwyn wasn't listening.
She looked at Vaelor, who hadn't moved since the fight ended. His hands were still clenched. His knuckles white.
She took a step toward him. "Vaelor. Tell me the truth."
He swallowed, closing his eyes.
Then, voice barely above a whisper—
"Galborn took my brother. And he turned him into a creature of the Vehrak Plain. A Vehrak Knight."
The silence was deafening.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
Delwyn's stomach twisted.
She had seen the Knight they fought in Ravengarde. Felt its power.
Had that been—?
No.
She refused to believe it.
But Vaelor's hollow gaze told her everything.
It was the truth.
And it was far, far worse than any of them had imagined.